


if you love me, don't let go

by atlantisairlock



Category: Asia's Next Top Model RPF
Genre: Adoption, Alternate Universe - Restaurant, Angst with a Happy Ending, Best Friends, Everyone Is Gay, F/F, Families of Choice, Female Friendship, Female-Centric, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Happy Ending, Homophobia, Queer Families, Queer Themes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-08
Updated: 2016-08-08
Packaged: 2018-08-07 10:53:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,239
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7712167
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/atlantisairlock/pseuds/atlantisairlock
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's the one where Julian & Patricia grow up with each other, run a restaurant with each other, accidentally adopt a bunch of kids with each other, fight injustice with each other, and fall in love. No, not with each other.</p>
            </blockquote>





	if you love me, don't let go

**Author's Note:**

  * For [asianellenpage](https://archiveofourown.org/users/asianellenpage/gifts).
  * Inspired by [family means no one gets left behind or forgotten](https://archiveofourown.org/works/6907378) by [cosmicocean](https://archiveofourown.org/users/cosmicocean/pseuds/cosmicocean). 



> title from 'unsteady' by x ambassadors.

In another world, everyone has enough food to eat, a roof to live under, and parents who love them. In another world, people are treated fairly - equally - no matter who they are, no matter who they love. In another world, children get to be children.

This is not that world.

 

 

Julian meets Patricia in kindergarten after the pint-sized little girl sneaks up on her and dumps a bucket of sand over her head.

She's not impressed. Neither is Patricia, who expected her to start bawling and run off to their teacher while she stood by and laughed. They fold their arms and glare each other down for five minutes before Julian crosses her eyes and sticks out her tongue, and Patricia can't help but dissolve into giggles. 

It's the beginning of a beautiful friendship. 

 

 

Two years after the sand-dumping incident, Julian leaves kindergarten and goes up into primary school. Patricia follows. They live two blocks from each other, so they attend the same school - and by sheer chance, they're both assigned to the same class. They make new friends, but they stick with each other, above all - they help each other with homework, play in the playground until the sun sets, tell each other everything.

They grow up together. Other people leave - fade out when the circumstances that throw them together come to an end, or they take a flight out of the country and never come back, something or another. Things change around them, but this - this one thing, it stays constant. The older they get, the less they take it for granted, and the more grateful they are for it. 

They tell each other  _everything._

In other words: Patricia is the first person Julian talks to about _It._  

 

 

It takes her about a month to work up the courage, because she's just fifteen and she hasn't yet measured this girl she's been friends with almost her entire life, so she's terrified. She questions herself relentlessly from the first moment her gaze lingers too long on the girl in the next class, because it makes her heart pound and her palms sweat and she doesn't know what any of it  _means._ It's hard enough to dig up any real information on it, and even harder to come to terms, when she finally does.

It's a perfectly ordinary afternoon when she finally lets it slip past her lips, out into the open for Patricia to do with it as she wishes. They're doing homework in Julian's bedroom, but Julian can't concentrate on her English essay for all the anxiety coiling in her stomach. Patricia hums as she works on her Bio assignment, until.

"Hey, do you know how to describe the difference between the smooth and rough ER?"

Julian snaps. "Trish. I need to tell you something."

"Uh-huh. Would it happen to be the difference between smooth ER and rough ER?"

"Patricia,"Julian says slowly."I'm gay." 

Patricia rolls her eyes. "Yes, I know. Look, could you please explain the difference? You're better at Bio than I am." 

All in all, it's hardly an eventful coming out. Patricia laughs at her, then informs her that she's probably leaning towards the label of bi instead, then turns back to her homework and begs for help. Julian leans closer and starts explaining the concept, feeling the knot in her chest beginning to unravel. 

So she didn't leave her behind, even in this. 

 

 

They're savvy enough to keep their mouths shut. This is not a society, a country, a reality that allows them to be who they are unapologetically, unthinkingly. And that's not fair, they both know it's not, but they have each other, so they can make it work. 

People at school think they're together; point fingers, jeer, laugh. They ignore it. 

They know what's real and what isn't. Nobody else matters. Especially not when they both top their respective classes and go on to study in the most prestigious junior college in the country. At the end of two years, Patricia makes like the Good Daughter and goes on to take a Business course at a well-rated local uni. Julian has an all-out shouting match with her parents and goes in for an apprenticeship under a Michelin star chef who sees something in her worth nurturing. 

Five years later, Patricia graduates with a long-coveted degree, and Julian loses the title of apprentice and gains the one of master, along with a restaurant and her mentor's blessing. They sit down together and stare at the deed for a long minute, before they look up at the same time and their eyes meet. 

"You thinking what I'm thinking?"

Patricia shoots her a sharp grin. "Haven't I always?" 

 

 

Patricia's parents are rolling in the dough and think their daughter's business plan is solid. Julian's parents grudgingly try her food for the first time and proceed to fall in love with it. It ends with more than enough seed money to renovate the restaurant and begin marketing it to the public. Fusion food is still considered newfangled, so Patricia has her work cut out for her, but she's resourceful and Julian's passionate and against everything they could have ever expected, they succeed, first try. They get featured on TNP and ieatishootipost and Makansutra within a year and break even way before that. 

Business starts booming. They buy the space next door and expand, then move into the walk-up apartment above the restaurant. Patricia hires new staff while Julian adds menu options. Pretty soon they don't even need advertising any more, because their customers are doing it for them. Some online journal lauds them as the best entrepreneurs in the local F&B industry since ever, a platonic power couple, best friends who've got it made.

And got it made they do. On Patricia's 25th, they sit on the roof with mai tais and drink to their success, and before she falls asleep Julian thinks  _yes this is what I want never change._

 

 

Then they find Gwen eating out of the bins at the back. 

 

 

At first, Patricia thinks it's strays. Dogs or cats, maybe, digging scraps out of the trash bins lining the back alley that the kitchen opens out onto. The mess that they stumble upon every morning without fail is annoying, but it's not illegal or dangerous or whatever, so Julian just warns the staff not to stay late and to watch out for potential ferals. It's only by sheer chance that Julian's struck by inspiration late one night and slips down to the kitchen to whip up something new and try it out. She opens the fridge to get a carton of milk and is faced by a wedge of half-eaten cheese that looks well past its prime. She makes a note to mention it to the other cooks tomorrow, and takes it out to the garbage. 

The second shock of the night comes in the far more horrifying form of a teenage girl - can't be more than nineteen - scavenging through said garbage. One of the bins is on its side, and there are two piles beside it - one contains food waste, the other far larger and made up of stuff like packaging and disposable utensils and whatnot. Julian stops dead. The girl looks up, and panic flashes in her eyes. Without hesitating, she leaps up and makes a move to run. 

Julian acts on instinct, lunges forward and grabs her by the arm. The girl raises her hands in surrender almost immediately, flinching back. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry! Please, don't - I'll leave right now. I'm sorry." 

She's shaking, looks hunted, terrified. It dredges up old memories, curling tight and gutting beneath Julian's ribs. With an effort, she keeps her voice low, calm. "Hey, shh. Calm down. I'm not going to hurt you. Please don't run."

The girl stares at her. Julian registers disbelief in her expression, then confusion, wariness, and she can see her weighing the decision before she finally nods. With a sigh of relief, Julian releases her grip. Thankfully, the girl doesn't try to run again. Instead she kneels to restore the bin to its standing position, avoiding eye contact. 

Julian stops her. "Come inside and get something proper to eat."

The girl startles back, shakes her head vehemently. "I couldn't - " 

She doesn't stop to wonder if it's a pride thing, just repeats herself with a bit more force. She's not letting a girl eat out of the trash if she can do anything about it. It takes a bit more convincing, but finally the girl steps through the back door, still looking cautious, suspicious. It doesn't let up even after Julian sits her down at the counter and whips up the quickest things she can manage, serves up an omelette, sausages, yogurt, blends some fruit into juice. It's a breakfast meal, not suitable for the time of the night, but the girl eats voraciously anyway, as if she's starving. Julian's heart seizes when she realises it's probably the case. She sits down opposite the girl, watching her eat. When she's done, Julian takes the used plates and cutlery and puts them in the sink. 

She doesn't know what to do, until the girl speaks up. "Thank you. For - yeah. I'm sorry for messing up your bins. I won't do it again."

There's an implicit  _I'll look for somewhere else to scavenge_ in there that makes Julian feel like she's going to throw up. She needs to do something for this girl, anything. She checks her anger and speaks softly. "You can just come in here if you need a meal. No charge." 

She shakes her head, looking fierce now. "I can't do that. That's not right."

Julian wants to  _scream_ that it's not  _right_ that anybody should be in such desperate straits that they have to eat out of the garbage. It occurs to her, then, that if the kid's doing that, she's probably, most definitely living on the streets. 

That, she can do something about. "Do you have anywhere to stay tonight?"

The girl's gaze drops, and she shifts in her seat. "Yeah." 

She's lying, she must be. Julian furrows her brow. "You can stay if you need."

Her eyes go huge. _"Me?"_

Julian smirks and gestures around the empty, quiet kitchen. To her credit, the girl snorts, rolls her eyes, lips twitching in a ghost of a smile before she sobers up. "Nah, I shouldn't. You're  _Julian Flores._ Everyone knows you're good and respectable and all. Shouldn't be sticking with people like me."

She's not sure her eyebrows could rise any higher, but Julian thinks they do. "Street kids?"

The girl swallows hard and stares deliberately at her feet. "Gay." 

Ah. 

 

 

When she was younger, almost ten years ago, Julian considered coming out to her parents. That idea was quashed about thirty seconds later when her mother started talking about the rise of a local pride movement in the most disparaging terms Julian'd ever heard her use. It scared the living shit out of her, and that was the day she decided  _this is not my fight._

She wants to live free and be safe.

But she also wants to have  _this_  - the restaurant around her, her parents' love, respect from her fellow countrymen.

Years ago, she made a choice. 

And evidently, this girl made a different one. 

 

 

It's easy enough to piece the puzzle together. "Your parents threw you out?"

"Yeah. Two years ago. Told me to come back when I was, and I quote, normal again."

Julian can't breathe for the sticking stuffiness in her throat. The girl's lip trembles and Julian makes another decision right then and there. "It would be a bit of a problem if I didn't stick with 'people like you', since I'm one of them myself."

One of  _them._ It's the first time she's ever really acknowledged herself as part of the larger gay community, and she's surprised at how easily it rolls off her tongue. The girl stares in shock. "Holy shit, really?"

"Really. Does that change things?"

"A bit," the girl admits, a small smile lingering on her face. "But I still can't stay." She catches Julian's eye before Julian can answer  _why not,_ and it's a look of finality. 

There's nothing more that can be done, then. Julian sighs, and returns to the kitchen and bags up a few easily-consumed nonperishables for the girl to take with her. "Come back whenever you need to. I promise the door will always be open. And stay safe...?"

"Gwen." 

"Stay safe, Gwen."

She nods. "I will."

Julian lets her out through the back, and she darts off into the night. 

 

 

"We need to talk."

"Uh? What?" Patricia yawns, rolling over once, twice, again. She proceeds to fall out of the bed. "Fuck!" 

Julian waits patiently as her best friend pulls herself into a sitting position, groaning. "Ugh. It's like three in the morning!"

"It's 10 AM, Trish."

"It's Saturday, same thing." She drags herself to the dining table and reaches blearily for her mug of coffee. "What do we need to talk about at this ungodly hour?"

"We need to talk about Gwen."

"Eh, who's that?"

"She's the girl who's been eating out of the garbage. It's not strays or ferals, Trish. It's a girl."

 _That_ wakes Patricia up. "Wait, what? Eating out of the  _garbage?_ How did you find out? Tell me everything."

So Julian does. By the time she's concluding the story, Patricia's got angry tears in her eyes. "That's fucked up. That's so fucked up. Why didn't she just stay? We have so much space up here in the apartment. We could definitely have her for a night or a week or more." 

"Probably pride. It's not easy to accept charity, and you know it." Julian shrugs. "But she knows she can come if she needs something to eat."

"I guess that's better than nothing," Patricia says, but the discomfort in her tone is apparent. Julian can hear it in her own voice, too. 

 

 

The garbage goes untouched for a week. Julian worries herself sick until Gwen  _finally_ knocks on the back door again ten minutes after closing, when most everyone has clocked off. Julian ushers her in and notes with alarm the makeshift bandage on her upper left arm. "What happened?"

"Was digging for stuff a block from here. Kinda tired, so I wasn't paying attention and got cut on some glass. Didn't know who else to come to."

"You did the right thing," Julian answers firmly, guiding her to the bathroom and removing the rags wrapped around her arm. She runs the wound under the tap and guides Gwen to a chair, before running upstairs to Patricia. "Hey, Trish. You took a first aid course and got certified, right?"

Patricia looks up from her laptop, startled. "Yeah. Why?"

"Gwen's downstairs. She's hurt. Can you help?"

Patricia moves so fast Julian swears she feels the rush of air as her best friend dashes to their bathroom, grabs the kit and takes the stairs three at a time. By the time Julian follows her down to the restaurant, Patricia's already beginning to bandage the wound properly and is speaking to Gwen in her best bedside manner. She looks exhausted, but reassured. 

When Patricia's done, Gwen makes to get up. Julian steps forward, shaking her head. "No way. You're not going anywhere else tonight in this state. Have some proper food and rest up, and you can leave tomorrow morning if your arm is better."

"I can't do that." 

"You're injured, Gwen. I'm not letting you back out into the night."

"It's just my arm. You've done way more than enough, I don't want to inconvenience you - I'll be fine, Julian, really, I _swear."_

Julian folds her arms. Patricia does the same. Gwen does it right back, then slumps. "I can't stay. They'll be wondering where I am. They'll be worried, and  _hungry._ "

Patricia frowns. "Who's  _they?"_

 

 

So apparently Gwen's living with a bunch of other girls, all in pretty much the same situation, hiding out in some shell of an abandoned house due for demolition in two months. She's the oldest of the group, so she's taken it upon herself to keep them fed as best as she can and never leaves them for a single night. 

"I can't do that," she says, valiantly attempting to hold back tears. "I left them to fend for themselves one time so I could head out a bit further and try new places for more food and maybe meds, because Maya had a flu. When I got back the next morning she couldn't wake up. After that I swore I'd never leave them alone overnight again." 

And yeah, Julian thinks she might be freaking out, because this is the twenty-first century and how  _dare_ parents throw their children out and leave them defenceless, to starve and scrat and _die?_

She's too angry to say anything, but Patricia's always been the more levelheaded one and she's already got a plan. "Bring them here."

Gwen's mouth falls open. "What?"

"Bring them here. All of the girls."

"All  _eleven_ of us?"

"Our apartment's pretty big. It'll be a little cramped, obviously, but I'm sure you can all make do for at least a night. Julian and I will start finding alternative accommodation, but my most immediate concern is getting all of you off the streets  _right now._ So yes, Gwen, take us wherever you're staying at the moment and we're bringing the girls back here." 

She says it in the tone that Julian's always known to mean that she'll tolerate no argument. Julian's pretty sure Gwen _would_ argue nevertheless if it weren't for the fact that she's solely concerned for the other girls. She nods. "Okay."

 

 

The area the girls are living in isn't particularly shady, but it's not exactly fun to be in at night either. And when they set eyes on the building Gwen leads them to, Patricia's grip on Julian's wrist tightens. It's unfit for habitation. It's just so  _wrong._

Gwen enters, calling out to them. "Guys, come on, pack up. We're leaving."

The space is unlit but for moonlight streaming in through the holes in the walls. Julian just manages to make out a figure looking out from under what might be a blanket. "Leaving? To where?"

"Is it the cops again?"

"It's not the police," Patricia replies, and there's a gasp from around the room at the unfamiliar voice. "My name's Patricia and I'm here with my best friend Julian to take all of you somewhere safe." 

Someone turns on their cellphone flashlight. Julian blinks hard at the sudden harsh illumination. "Holy f - wait a sec, as in,  _the_ Patricia and Julian?"

"Yeah, Jess. Come on, we have to go."

It doesn't take long to get the girls moving. The thought of somewhere to sleep, proper food to eat - combined with the fact that none of them have many personal belongings to take along - gets them all out of the building pretty quick. Gwen takes up the rear and hovers over them, gaze sweeping over all of them and making sure they're all there all the way up to the restaurant. 

Like Julian, she only exhales a sigh of relief once they get there.

 

 

The apartment is a lot smaller with thirteen people in it. Patricia hems and haws and Gwen glares at her when she suggests that she and Julian will sleep on the roof for the night so the girls have enough space. 

Eventually, they manage to fit two people on Patricia's bed, another two on Julian's, and two on the sofa. Julian drags out a spare mattress, a yoga mat and a sleeping bag and with a bit of acrobatics, manages to fit them all in the living room. Patricia searches the house for every single blanket, duvet and comforter she can find and stacks them up so Gwen doesn't have to sleep on the cold, hard floor. 

"Where are you two going to sleep?" The girl Gwen introduces as Jessica asks sleepily as she's snuggling down onto the spare mattress. 

"We've got two bathtubs, kiddo. We'll be fine."

Thankfully, Gwen's dead to the world by then and doesn't hear them. Julian turns off the lights and they both creep down to the restaurant, certain that there won't be any sleep for either of them tonight. 

When they get downstairs, Patricia flips a light switch and sets her laptop up on the counter, then turns to Julian. "The two apartments above the bookstore and laundromat beside us are empty."

She's got a determined look in her eyes. Julian knows - and likes - that look. She nods. "An instant noodles night, or a real meal night?"

"Real meal and a bottle of wine."

"You got it." 

 

 

Patricia dozes off at around six-thirty, when the sun's just beginning to rise. Julian drapes her jacket around her and turns the laptop so it's facing her. They've spent a long night figuring out how to buy the apartments next door, and factoring in their budget, and making long term plans. She updates their various social media platforms, informing customers that they'll be closed for the day, and doesn't raise the shutters. Once she's done, she heads upstairs. 

Surprisingly, one person's awake - at this ungodly hour, as Patricia would put it. Jessica's rubbing her eyes, stretching and yawning. She catches Julian's eye and smiles. "Good morning."

"Morning. Did you rest well?"

"Better than I have in a while." Jessica looks around her, then looks back up. "Um... would you happen to have a spare toothbrush?"

Thankfully, Patricia has a terrible habit of overbuying necessities and taking freebies from hotel rooms. They do indeed have a stock of almost thirty toothbrushes under the bathroom sink. Julian watches as Jessica makes her way to the washroom and the sound of the tap comes on, muffled through the door. 

She wonders what she's going to have to deal with when the other girls wake up. It might be chaos. It probably will be. She walks around the apartment and checks in on the other girls, makes sure they're all right, then goes up to the washroom and knocks. "Jessica?"

"Yes?"

"How do you like your eggs?"

 

 

Julian busies herself with making scrambled eggs while Patricia sleeps on the counter, lost in thought. They'll have to go shopping immediately - the girls need new clothes, food, toiletries, the works. At the back of her mind, she wonders if any of this is legal. 

She finds that she really doesn't give a shit. 

 

 

When Jessica comes downstairs, her eggs are ready, along with rashes of bacon and beans, carrots, peas, as much as Julian could pile on her plate. She stares at the food like she doesn't know what to do with it, and something flips over inside Julian's heart. It might be righteous rage, or pain. Hesitantly, Jessica picks up a proffered fork and begins eating. 

Julian takes a seat with her own breakfast. Unlike Gwen, Jessica's readier to make conversation. "Thanks for opening up your home to us."

"Of course. It was the right thing to do."

"Not everyone would have done something like that." 

 _Not every parent would kick their kid out,_ Julian thinks. She twirls another forkful of noodles and sighs. She needs to get to know these girls better, if she's thinking of giving them a home. "Will you tell me more about yourself, and the rest of you?"

 

 

According to Jessica, she's eighteen and she's been on the streets for a year. The girl called Tugs found her passed out under a tree a month after she was kicked out, delirious from fever, and took her back to Gwen. She's been with the ragtag group ever since. It's as close to family as it gets. Most of them are around seventeen or eighteen. Gwen's the oldest at nineteen and May's the youngest at just fourteen. Their newest addition is Angie, who only joined up two months back. Tuti's been on the streets the longest. Mai's the one who goes out scavenging with Gwen in the more dangerous spots in town, because she's a brown belt. Their main concern has always been just to survive, but Angie and Sang In & Tuti and Tawan have found the time and space to fall in love. Oh, and she nearly forgot, Aldilla and Alaiza are a little under the weather, would it be okay if Gwen got to run out to buy flu meds?

Julian sets her jaw. "When they wake up, Patricia and I will take them to the doctor. Don't worry about it."

Jessica looks so damn grateful it makes Julian's chest hurt. 

Yeah, it really pisses her the fuck off.

 

 

The other girls wake up gradually, later, to find toothbrushes neatly labeled with their names in permanent marker. When they head downstairs, there's breakfast on the tables. It's all eggs with other sides, and Patricia shakes the empty egg carton with the rueful grin. "Guess it's time to go grocery shopping."

Gwen's eyes go wide with alarm. "Wait, what?"

"What  _what?_ Look, Julian's a good cook - "

"Excuse me, I'm an _amazing_ cook." 

"- but I doubt even  _she_ can whip up meals for so many people on the meagre contents of our personal fridge." 

"What are you talking about - wait, no." The girls are staring, mouths agape. "This was supposed to be temporary and - Patricia, we can't  _stay."_

"Oh really. Perhaps you should tell that to the two neighbouring apartments Julian and I bought last night." 

Patricia didn't think it was possible for eyebrows to go that high up people's faces, but there they are. Gwen wheels around to Julian. She shrugs. "I mean, we couldn't possibly fit all of you into  _one_ apartment forever."

"We can't possibly - what - how - how  _much?!"_

"We can't take advantage of your kindness - "

"This is too much - "

"Hey, hey, hey," Patricia interrupts. "Look, listen. The apartments have been bought. We're not gonna take our money back or whatever. Either you guys move in, or they stand empty for years and make Julian and I look like idiots. So you guys might just as well just smile and say hurray and move in." 

This sets off another round of whispers and murmurs. This time it isn't even just Gwen protesting - the other girls look uncomfortable at the thought and for a moment Julian is actually afraid the girls will turn down the offer - until Jessica sidles over and places a hand on Gwen's shoulder, says something into her ear rapidly and quietly. Julian can't hear what she's saying, but after a solid minute she sees the tension leaving Gwen's shoulders, the resignation in her eyes. "All right, fine. We'll move in.  _But_ we're figuring out a way to repay you as soon as we can, and that's _not_ negotiable."

"Sure," Patricia says good-humouredly, so they stay.

 

 

Thankfully, the agent who sold them their restaurant space and existing apartment also owns the neighbouring ones. The deal goes through easy, no fuss, and neither of them bother worrying about balancing the books, at least not yet. Patricia pulls doctor duty and drives Aldilla and Alaiza down to the neighbourhood physician. Jessica, Angie and Sang In volunteer to go furniture shopping with Julian. Gwen insists on staying behind to watch the other girls while they're away, so Julian starts up Netflix on the flatscreen in the living room and promises to be back by lunchtime. 

It's certainly something. They must spend two hours just running around IKEA, and Julian fills three carts and schedules more deliveries than she can keep track of. The girls are just so damn  _happy_ to be buying new furniture, envisioning the idea of having a home again, and it's enough for her not to give a shit when Jessica comes up to the cart with a shit-eating grin and drops five emoji pillows into it. Including the smiling poop emoji. Julian side-eyes her, but checks it all out anyway, and doesn't bother looking at the receipt. 

 

 

Patricia calls in a professional, who estimates that it'll take two weeks or so for the plumbing, gas and electricity to be fixed up and for the floorboards to be given a cleaning and everything, but other than that the apartments are pretty move-in ready. Julian lays out two new sleeping bags in the kitchen so she and Patricia can get some rest. 

The very next day, they reopen the restaurant, which basically means the kids have to be stuck in the apartment for a while. Patricia puts her foot down and hooks the TV up to her spare laptop, then programs it to play educational videos for five hours. She returns to find May and Angie, still secondary-school age, watching said videos on her laptop while the rest catch up on Narcos on the television. Patricia is mostly incensed and just maybe a little bit impressed that they figured out how the system works. Julian finds it hilarious. 

And it starts to feel like home. 

 

 

The gas man comes in, the plumbing gets fixed up, and the circuit breaker starts working. Patricia pulls on a smock and hands the girls mops, brooms and rags. "All right, kids, time to get cleaning so we can move all the furniture in." 

The girls take to the job with great enthusiasm. Julian supervises the group in the slightly smaller walkup and takes charge of cleaning out the bathroom. Someone puts a radio down in the middle of the living room and starts blasting Top 40 tunes, and they end up singing at the top of their voices pretty awfully. 

It's a really good day. 

 

 

Three weeks to the day Julian and Patricia brought the girls back, they move into the apartments next door. 

Around the same time, the owner of the laundromat tells Julian that she's selling the place and retiring to Bali. Julian doesn't think twice. By that night, plans are being made to expand the restaurant once more. 

Patricia pops into the apartments at dinnertime with the girls' food and asks to see Gwen. Before she can say anything, Gwen speaks. "So now that we don't need to worry about surviving on the daily, I've decided that I'm going to get a job and you are _not_ allowed to say no." 

To her surprise, Patricia claps her hands in delight. "Fantastic idea! How would you like to work in the restaurant?"

 

 

"We're putting May and Angie back in school," Julian insists over breakfast. "The rest of you can work in the new wing of the restaurant if you want, fine, but they're still  _kids._ They're going back to school."

"I'm not a kid," Angie whines, looking up from Kinect Adventures. "I'm _sixteen!"_

"You're a shrimp," Gwen informs her with a grin. "I think they should. And I know for a fact that Tawan wants to go back to school, too."

Patricia is pleased. "Good. We'll settle everything." 

 

 

It is, as she discovers, not easy to 'settle everything'. It turns out that she can't just walk into the office of the nearest secondary school and randomly ask to enroll three girls for next year's batch. The man behind the counter squints at Patricia suspiciously. "You can apply the normal way like all Primary Six students do."

"Well, the thing is, they're not in Primary Six and they've  _been_ in school, they just... haven't been in a while and they want to go back."

The suspicion in the man's expression increases tenfold. "Do you have their official documents?"

"Well, no, but - "

"What are their highest levels of education completed?"

"I'm not sure, it's just - " 

"And how are you related?"

"We're not exactly  _related_ per se - " 

"Madam," he says, in a tone that clearly displays growing exasperation. "You are  _aware_ that identity theft - not to mention  _kidnapping_ \- is a federal offence, punishable by law?" 

Patricia gapes. "If I'd  _kidnapped_ three girls, do you really think I'd be  _enrolling them in school?"_

The man is not convinced by this line of argument. Patricia returns home defeated. Julian commiserates, then makes her a nice hot cup of tea and asks Tawan, Angie and May what subjects they were studying while they were enrolled in school. She looks up the current O Level syllabus, makes a folder of educational videos, and goes out to the bookstore to buy stacks of study guides, assessment books and mock papers. That settled, she starts drawing up another plan.

 

 

Julian and Patricia decide that the new wing of the restaurant will mean that they'll need one more chef on staff, two dishwashers, and five waitresses-cum-busboys (busgirls?). Julian holds an audition of sorts. It's immediately evident that Tugs and Mai can't cook to save their lives. Aldilla and Alaiza can handle local fare all right, but they can't grasp anything besides that. Gwen's food is decent, just uninspired - Tuti and Tawan do just okay - Sang In shudders at the thought of spending her day in the kitchen and politely withdraws. It's Jessica that whips up something that  _really_ impresses Julian. It shows real passion and ingenuity, and it's easy to tell they've got their new chef. Gwen and Tugs happily take on the dishwasher job, and the rest get a crash course from Patricia as to how to be a five-star waitress. 

Considering all the reno that needs to be done - this isn't like the apartments - it'll be a long time before the new wing of the restaurant can open. Julian starts training Jessica proper with regards to cooking, but tells the rest that they're free to indulge in whatever hobbies they might have. 

Alaiza opens her mouth. Julian narrows her eyes. "Absolutely _n_ _ot_ Netflix."

Alaiza closes her mouth again. 

 

 

The very next day, all the girls up and leave to traipse around the nearest library. It's probably the best place they could go. 

Well, all the girls, except Jessica. Julian puts her best resident chef in charge of the kitchen for the time being, tosses her a brand-new apron and makes the upstairs kitchen off-limits to everyone else. She places her carefully collated book of recipes on the counter, right in front of Jessica. "You ready to become a resident chef?"

Jessica is grinning, her eyes alit. After a month, she's put on a bit more weight, no longer looks as undernourished and hunted as she did when she first came. There's still a subtle sunken look about her cheekbones that Julian's not sure she'll ever shake, and it's all she sees when she really looks. She doesn't know how long the girls are going to stay, despite the apartment situation and all - but she thinks she'll never stop seeing them as they were in that due-for-demolition building, living day-to-day on nothing, no matter what happens in the future. 

She wants this to work.

She wants them to stay. 

And Jessica's smiling like she just won a million bucks. "I'm ready." 

 

 

Everything works out - so much better than either of them could ever have expected.

Julian can't believe it's gone so smoothly, can't believe it's been one month, two months, three, since she caught Gwen scavenging in the bins. 

And the world seems so  _right -_

 

 

\- Tawan's parents storm into the restaurant and fuck it all right up. 

 

 

It's not particularly pleasant to talk about, but thankfully the cops don't need to be called in and nobody is severely injured. 

What happens is basically this: 

  * Tawan's parents march in like they own the place.
  * They demand to see their daughter.
  * Tawan cowers behind Tuti, who dares them to  _lay a fucking finger on her, you won't see tomorrow._
  * There is an actual fistfight. Mai's the brown belt, but apparently Tuti's uncle taught her savate. 
  * Tawan's dad gets his hands on her and damn near drags her by her hair out of the restaurant. 
  * There's a  _lot_ of screaming and Julian's not going to lie, she's not above using her teeth and nails. 
  * Patricia disappears into the kitchen and returns with a frying pan - a  _frying pan? -_  and tells the Kedkongs to  _get the fuck out of our restaurant right now._
  * Thankfully, she does not clock either parent or any of the girls on the head. 
  * Tawan's mother accuses Patricia of kidnapping her daughter - okay, seriously,  _what_ is with the kidnapping accusations?
  * Gwen rails up and swears like a sailor, asks  _why the hell did you throw her out of the house then?_
  * And yeah, she's got no fucking right, no  _fucking_ right, Julian thinks. 
  * _GET OUT OF OUR RESTAURANT. GET OUT OF OUR HOME._ That's Jessica, high-pitched and fucking furious, and Aldilla  _just_ stops her from brandishing a knife. 
  * Most amazingly -
  * they get out. 



 

 

After, Tawan starts heaving hysterical sobs and Tuti takes her upstairs to calm down. The rest survey the overturned chairs and tables and the general chaos, and Julian exhales loudly to break the silence. "Well, let's clean up and have supper, shall we?"

Patricia, Gwen and Tugs do a food run and come back with pizza. It's not a good night, but - as Angie rightly puts it, 'pizza solves everything'. 

Well, it doesn't. But for one night, it's enough.

 

 

Julian wakes up to Jessica looming over her. She shrieks in absolute terror and nearly topples out of bed, and  _just_ manages to keep her composure. "Jesus, Jess, don't scare a girl like that!" 

Jessica doesn't smile. "You need to look at the news."

She hands Julian her cellphone, opened to the ST app. Julian feels her mouth going dry as she reads. 

So. It looks as if the Kedkongs have gone to find the parents of the other girls - pretty damn resourceful - and gone to the press. 

"There are throngs of reporters downstairs," Jessica says quietly. "Patricia's fielding them, but even with all the shutters down - it's bad." 

Yeah. Julian can imagine. 

 

 

Many years ago, she listened to her mother tear down a core part of her identity and decided this was not her fight. 

But somewhere along the way she's learned more about herself, and maybe this is a new world now, a better one perhaps? and she might just have accidentally adopted some daughters. 

This is her fucking fight. 

 

 

She heads over to the girls' apartments first, tells them to bar the windows, deadbolt the doors,  _don't_ let anybody in unless they know it to be either Julian or Patricia, and distract themselves. After that, she joins Patricia downstairs.

The noise from outside is deafening, even with the shutters down. Patricia's sitting at the counter cupping her palms around a mug of coffee. She's shaking. Julian eases herself down beside her best friend and sighs. 

"What are we going to do?" 

Julian taps her fingers against the counter. "Remember when we were younger, and we decided that we weren't going to do stuff like go for Pride, or come out to the public, or fly the rainbow flag at all?"

"Yeah," Patricia nods. "It's probably why we got this far unhindered." 

"Yeah. I think it's time we say fuck it, and go out there and tell the world what they don't want to hear."

Patricia's eyes widen. Her hands still around her coffee cup, and Julian sees the panic flash across her face. "What? Julian, are you  _nuts?_ That will be the end of it. Nobody is going to support us if we go out there and tell the truth and counter-attack the girls' parents or whatever! It will be the end of us. It'll be the end of  _this!"_  She gestures at the restaurant with one flailing hand. 

"Yeah, Trish, I know. We're probably going to lose a restaurant we've worked for half our lives." Julian thinks of their inevitable ruin and balances it against the other most precious thing in her life. "But we also have kids. Our kids." 

Silence. People are banging on the shutters. Their cellphones are buzzing with messages from everybody they could think of. Julian thinks she can hear the girls watching Marco Polo upstairs. 

Patricia lifts her mug up to her lips. "Let's do it." 

 

 

It's not their first press con. 

It might be their last. 

Julian picks up the mic, taps a finger against it, thinks of the girls -  _their_ girls. Waiting for them at  _home,_ their happiness and stability and even their lives banking on this. 

The audience waits. Julian raises the mic. 

"My name is Julian Flores," she begins, and so does the rest of her life. 

 

 

Because most of the girls are eighteen, or seventeen-going-on-eighteen, they can legally - as Patricia puts it - live wherever the fuck they want, _especially_ away from their abusive, disgusting parents. The only problems are the younger ones. Angie's parents turn their backs on her and basically make her a ward of the state - Julian immediately starts fighting for adoption papers. May's parents do practically the same thing. The Kedkongs, unwilling to take this lying down, fight harder. Tawan flat-out refuses to go home. It's the beginning of a long legal battle, one that Patricia's  _certain_ they won't have the funds to engage in, because  _the restaurant is going to get screwed._

And here's the real kicker - 

it doesn't. 

Because Julian turns out to be right. Things are changing. Times are changing. People are fighting along with them. People are calling them  _heroes._

May is calling her  _mom._

This is not going to be easy. None of it is going to be easy, 

 _but nothing worth doing was ever easy,_ Jessica says, smirking over her wok, and Julian is finally ready to fight. 

 

 

 **EPILOGUE  
** FIVE YEARS LATER

 

 

"I think Tugs might be trying to cook."

"Mm, is _that_ where the burning smell's coming from? Call 995." 

Jessica slaps Julian on the shoulder. "You're awful."

"You love it."

Jessica doesn't bother dignifying that with a reply. "Get  _out_ of bed already. Just because it's a public holiday and the restaurant's closed doesn't mean you get to laze around for the entire day. We're doing something special this afternoon, remember?"

Julian does remember, in fact. It's five years to the day the girls first moved in, and the building where they used to live in has long been transformed into a little secondhand bookstore/sit-down bakery combi that they love visiting. Gwen thought it would be nice, the first year after, to visit - a bit like a tribute. It's become a tradition. They go there to celebrate everything - from the official adoption papers going through to the new wing of the restaurant finally going up, from the abolishing of 377A to the legalisation of same-sex civil unions, from birthdays to first kisses, everything. 

It's been a good five years. 

It's been a good fight. 

Julian sighs, reaches for Jessica's hand. "I can't believe we got to practically pioneer a new world." 

To her surprise, Jessica shakes her head. "This isn't a new world, Jules. There's still a  _lot_ of injustice, a lot of oppression. We still have a lot of work to do. This is not a new world. Not yet."

And Julian knows that. But in this very moment, she's surrounded by the people she loves most in the world, doing work she loves, living in a country where some kids will never have to know a set of laws under which they could not get married. 

And she can work with that.

They can work with that. 

**Author's Note:**

> disclaimers: i know that gwen is the oldest but i couldn't shake the idea of patricia & julian being BFFs & mom friends + i know that they're not all gay af irl obviously though they hella act like it and i can't take any of them seriously after team sambal's liberal use of the #lesbihonest hashtag + set in singapore + i don't know anything about reno & plumbing & whatever.
> 
> i don't own asntm or cbs or star world, etc. i don't know any of the models personally. i don't profit from this fic; it's just for fun. this fic isn't meant to be in character or to represent anything happening in real life or whatever. no disrespect meant towards any of the models or the hosts or their families or their respective spouses et al. probably really incorrect wrt all the technical bits bc i haven't had much prior experience in the film industry or the fashion industry. aka everything i've written in this fic is FICTIONAL. for ENJOYMENT.
> 
> please for the love of god DON'T come to the comments section going off about how rpf is Disrespectful and Gross and Wrong and Weird unless you intend to comment the exact same thing on every single one direction fic that exists on this site as well. it's just annoying.
> 
> and honestly this fic is just meant for me and the one other person i've written it for?? it's written entirely with them in mind??? so like yeah.


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